Scarlet Wilson - Her Christmas Eve Diamond

Dear Reader

Christmas is my absolute favourite time of year. I spend every Christmas Eve praying for some snow to fall and hoping we’ll get a white Christmas. I love putting up my Christmas tree, wrapping presents, watching Christmas films, and most of all I love to see Christmas-themed books on the shelves—so much so I begged my editor to let me write one!

Cassidy Rae is a bit like me. She counts the number of Christmas trees in the house windows on the way to work and thrives on the Christmas spirit. But Brad Donovan doesn’t share her enthusiasm. Christmas is a painful time of year for him, reminding him of what has slipped out of his grasp. He’s just managing to keep his head above water and is looking for a distraction—anything to keep his mind off Christmas. So what happens when the Christmas fairy meets the Grinch? Read on and see.

What I can guarantee you is that there will be snowflakes on Christmas Eve!

Merry Christmas!

Scarlet Wilson

PS I love hearing from readers. Come and visit my website: www.scarlet-wilson.com

‘Stirring, emotional and wonderfully absorbing,

IT STARTED WITH A PREGNANCY is an

impressive debut novel from a fabulous new voice

in category romance: Scarlet Wilson!’

— www.cataromance.com on IT STARTED WITH A PREGNANCY

Scarlet Wilson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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This book is dedicated to the children

I’ve watched grow up over the years

from excitable toddlers into responsible adults.

Carissa Hyndman, Jordan Dickson, Dillon Glencross

and Carly Glencross. Life is what you make it—

reach for the stars!

And to my new editor Carly Byrne.

Thanks for all your support and encouragement.

Writing can be tricky business and you make it all

so much easier—I think we make a good team!

30 September

CASSIDY raised her hand and knocked on the dilapidated door. Behind her Lucy giggled nervously. ‘Are you sure this is the right address?’

Cassidy turned to stare at her. ‘You arranged this. How should I know?’ She glanced at the crumpled piece of paper in her hand. ‘This is definitely number seventeen.’ She leaned backwards, looking at the 1960s curtains hanging in the secondary glazed double windows that rattled every time a bus went past. ‘Maybe nobody’s home?’ she said hopefully.

This had to be the worst idea she’d ever had. No. Correction. It hadn’t been her idea. In a moment of weakness she’d just agreed to come along with her colleagues to see what all the fuss was about.

‘Where did you find this one, Lucy?’

Lucy had spent the past year whisking her friends off to as many different fortune-tellers as possible. By all accounts, some were good, some were bad and some were just downright scary. Cassidy had always managed to wriggle out of it—until now.

‘This is the one my cousin Fran came to. She said she was fab.’

Cassidy raised her eyebrows. ‘Cousin Fran who went on the reality TV show and then spent the next week hiding in the cupboard?’

Lucy nodded. ‘Oh, great,’ sighed Cass.

‘I wonder if she’ll tell me how many children I’ll have,’ murmured Lynn dreamily. She stuck her pointed elbow into Cassidy’s ribs. ‘She told Lizzie King she’d have twins and she’s due any day now.’

‘I just want to know if Frank is ever going to propose,’ sighed Tamsin. ‘If she doesn’t see it in the future then I’m dumping him. Five years is long enough.’

Cassidy screwed up her nose and shook her head. ‘You can’t dump Frank because of something a fortune-teller says.’

But Tamsin had that expression on her face—the one that said, Don’t mess with me . ‘Watch me.’

There was a shuffle behind the door then a creak and the door swung open. ‘Hello, ladies, come on in.’

Cassidy blinked. The smell of cats hit her in the face like a steamroller.

She allowed the stampede behind her to thunder inside then took a deep breath of clean outside air, before pulling the door closed behind her. A mangy-looking cat wound its way around her legs. ‘Shoo!’ she hissed.

‘Come on, Cassidy!’

She plastered a smile on her face and joined her colleagues in smelly-cat-woman’s front room. The peeling noise beneath the soles of her feet told her that the carpet was sticky. She dreaded to think what with.

Her three friends were crowded onto the brown sofa. Another cat was crawling across the back of the sofa behind their heads. Cassidy’s eyes started to stream and she resisted the temptation to start rubbing them. Once she started, she couldn’t stop. Cat allergies did that to you.

‘So who wants to go first?’

Cassidy glanced at her watch. How had she got roped into this?

‘You go first, Cass,’ said Lucy, who turned to smelly-cat woman. ‘You’ll have to do a good job, Belinda. Our Cassidy’s a non-believer.’

The small, rotund woman eyed Cassidy up and down. Her brow was as wrinkled as her clothes. ‘This way, dear,’ she muttered, wandering down the hallway to another room.

Cassidy swallowed nervously. Maybe it would be easier to get this over and done with. Then at least she could wait outside in the car for the others.

The room was full of clutter. And cats.

As Belinda settled herself at one side of the table and shuffled some cards, Cassidy eyed the squashed easy chair on the other side. A huge marmalade cat was sitting in pride of place, blinking at her, daring her to move him.

Her gorgeous turquoise-blue velvet pea coat would attract cat hairs like teenage girls to a Bieber concert. She should just kiss it goodbye now.

‘Move, Lightning!’ Belinda kicked the chair and the cat gave her a hard stare before stretching on his legs and jumping from the seat, settling at her feet.

Cassidy couldn’t hide the smile from her face. It had to be the most inappropriately named cat—ever.

Belinda fixed her eyes on her. How could such a soft, round woman have such a steely glare? Her eyes weren’t even blinking. She was staring so hard Cass thought she would bore a hole through her skull.

She looked around her. Books everywhere. Piles of magazines. Shelves and shelves of ornaments, all looking as though they could do with a good dust. Another allergy to set off. One, two, no, three … no, there was another one hiding in the corner. Four cats in the room. All looking at her as if she shouldn’t be there. Maybe they knew something that she didn’t.

‘So, what do we do?’ she asked quickly.

Belinda’s face had appeared kindly, homely when she’d answered the door. But in here, when it was just the two of them, she looked like a cold and shrewd businesswoman. Cassidy wondered if she could read the thoughts currently in her head. That would account for the light-sabre stare.

Belinda shuffled the cards again. ‘We can do whatever you prefer.’ She spread the cards face down on the table. ‘I can read your cards.’ She reached over and grabbed hold of Cassidy’s hand. ‘I can read your palm. Or …’ she glanced around the room ‘… I can channel some spirits and see what they’ve got to say.’